


Introducing the Band

by OliverTypes22



Series: Dial The Band [1]
Category: Dialtown: Phone Dating Sim (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dial The Band AU, Everyone here has flesh heads, F/F, Gen, M/M, Multi, Music AU, Other, introduction, punk rock band au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliverTypes22/pseuds/OliverTypes22
Summary: Oliver Swift, a guy who wants to relive Punk Rock to show Mr. Dickens that there is still hope for that genre, however, he needs a band.After much difficulty, he managed to get a band together.But now what?
Relationships: Randy Jade/Gingi Protentum
Series: Dial The Band [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895332
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	1. Hey There!

Dialtown, a small yet comfortable place. 

Well, by comfortable- I meant doable.

When you're born in a weird place like this? it's kinda easy to catch up with whatever this land has to offer.

Don't get me wrong, I love this place! It's my home! But it's not perfect to modern standards, it's a _town_.

I never really cared about what modern society has to say, I mostly care about what it has.

Main example; music.

Dialtown might not be original but they have the best collection of music from old to new, even getting their hands on music from other countries. It's not the main theme but mostly one of their perks!

Which is why it only has one good music store.

That's right, the one and only.

Dialtown Music Store!

It's… an appropriate title because originally the 'Store' part didn't exist until a few people pointed out that all the music they sell weren't even made in Dialtown so they had to add 'Store' to avoid confusion.

Besides that- Dialtown's Music Store is a hidden treasure that even the nostalgic critics would fall onto their knees.

Don't get me started with the owner of that place, oh man, he's an awesome guy! 

People easily judge a book by its cover because they were in awe at how a suit-wearing English man could keep a store with various types of music up and running, they assumed he was into classical music but they were dead wrong.

Mr. Dickens was a rockstar at his prime, he was in a band called; _Socks_. He wasn't the one who named it but they just rolled with it- I mean, Socks is catchy!

Anyways, throughout his years; he spent his time sharing his talent and love for Punk-Rock. 

He was passionate about his work and he would totally wreck the stage when he was still in his prime, but time caught up to him fast and he had to limit himself from the performance. 

Yet, did it stop his music heart? Absolutely not! He kept his passion and made it into a business. 

Mr. Dickens managed to get his hands on a few records and sold them, it escalated to him using one of his old bandmate's property and turning it into a Music Store.

I look up to him a lot, he even taught me how to play the guitar when I was still- like, twelve! 

Oh? …you're curious about me? Aw, that's kinda nice of you to ask!

The name's Oliver Swift, groovy to meet ya!


	2. Guitarist

Clipping the badge onto his flannel shirt, Oliver grinned at his own reflection.

His ginger hair pushed back to a messy hawk style, some light scruff under his chin and his sideburns, his green noticeable eyes showing pride like his growing grin.

Today was the day he finally got to show off his projects, the thought of it made him straighten his posture to show confidence.

"Alright Oliver, you got this! You're gonna be the guy who brings back Punk Rock to the boards and everyone's gonna be like- _woah, that guy just brought back a genre to its prime again_ and you'll be like _yeah, that's me_ "

"You done talking to yourself, hotshot?"

Oliver turned his head towards the now open bathroom door to his coworker snickering at him.

"Oh, hey Nico"

Nico Perez, his coworker, a twenty-two-year-old drop out who happens to be making a proper living in this Music Store.

They had rosy pink dyed hair, killer ear piercings, and wore a set of clothes that just screams _break dancing royalty_ from those baggy pants and tight shirts. Their golden eyes darted at Oliver with a hint of mockery.

"So," Nico crossed their arms, "you gonna show Old Tea your passion project, or are you going to build a whole new world with a bathroom mirror?"

"First of all-" Oliver adjusted the collar of his shirt "-stop calling Mr. Dickens; _Old Tea_ , and second- I will!"

"Great, great! I'm proud of you, man- now get out, I wanna take a piss"

Before Oliver could reply, he was shoved out of the bathroom.

"Rude!"

"I'm too busy pissing!"

The flannel-wearing employee rolled his eyes and went downstairs to be met with the backroom of the building, dirty boxes, and old antiques sitting there like nothing.

He wonders when will Mr. Dickens sell them for extra cash.

Shrugging the idea away, he needed to find his boss.

It was still an early start- exactly 7 AM! He rushed out of the back room to see the main room of this Music Store.

Albums all stacked up perfectly, arranged to their respected genres, and old band posters slapped onto the wall like fine pieces of art.

Oliver enjoyed the sight of this room but his eyes darted to the suit-wearing English man who was examining the albums on one of the stands.

"Mr. Dickens!" He called out, almost scaring the guy from his lack of volume control.

"Bloody hell, Oliver-!" The man took off his glasses "-you almost gave me a heart attack"

"Sorry! Almost forgot to control my volume for a bit-"

"I'd say," Mr. Dickens tucked his glasses into his chest pocket "now what has gotten you so riled up, boy? Did you find that lost penny?"

"Nope, even better! Follow me!"

The two immediately- well, mostly Oliver- went to the backroom. 

Mr. Dickens quirked a brow before noticing Oliver dragging out two electric guitars, one was his and the other was Oliver's.

He wasn't quick on connecting the dots but after Oliver plugged the two into the speakers which let out a small ring, he assumed that Oliver was going to perform something. 

"Okay, sir, the past few months I've been working on something that will bring back Punk Rock- and hear me out-"

Oliver rushed to the side to grab a few papers out of a certain box. They were all clipped together.

"-I've been writing a few songs and I know you're going to love it!"

He handed the papers to Mr. Dickens.

The man got his glasses and adjusted them onto his face, squinting a bit to focus on the words.

"Oliver…"

"I rehearsed this one short song-! give me a second-" Oliver plucked a few strings of his guitar with his pick.

"Oliver-"

Oliver strikes the pick across the strings to make a tune, "It's fitting for two guitarists, I've done my research and after binge-watching on all of your old performances with Socks; I've added a hint of your solos into these songs-"

"Oliv-"

"-It goes a little something like this-" Oliver took a deep breath and started to play but…

"Oliver, boy!"

The flannel-wearing man almost dropped his pick from the sudden rise of volume.

"Yes…?"

The expression Mr. Dickens had was calm but also had a hint of doubt, he smiled softly and placed the papers down.

"Young chap, your writing is incredible and your planning is gawking!"

Oliver grinned sheepishly but it fell when Mr. Dickens continued.

"But I'm sorry, I can't be in your duo"

"Wh-" Oliver was speechless, "-what? I thought-"

A sigh came out of the older of the two

"Oliver, my boy, I've grown old. I can't perform anymore with this old body, my back is killing me and I'll possibly snap my wrist if I do my solos!"

"But- but-!"

"I know that you've worked hard on these-" he showed the papers "-and I know how passionate you are about music. You're just like me when I was much younger"

"Sir…"

"I'm sorry, Oliver"

"But-" Oliver started to stutter "-who would play with me? I can't be a solo guitarist and I doubt _Nico_ knows anything about playing anything-!"

"Ex-fucking-scuse me?"

Oliver and Mr. Dickens looked up to see Nico at the stairs, glaring at Oliver.

"Uhm," Oliver scratched the back of his neck "no offense"

The pink-haired co-worker just furrowed their eyebrows, flipped the bird, and walked out of the back room.

The two who remained in the back room blinked before continuing where they left off.

"Still, I can't do this without you, Sir"

Mr. Dickens sighed to himself before placing his glasses back in his chest pocket, he thought hard about what he could do but he had no options due to his age.

However, an idea struck by and he quickly fished out his wallet.

"I might not be much of assistance but…" he got an old photo out of his leather wallet, a photo that Oliver immediately recognized.

It was a Polaroid of the band members of Socks.

Mr. Dickens was having an arm over the bassist; Adam Hussain. Adam was a bassist and was a good friend of Mr. Dickens. Sadly, he passed away when he was diagnosed with cancer.

Then, there was the drummer of the band; Gilez Diaz. He was a wild guy, always wanting to rush into things but despite his actions- he was a good friend with a big heart. He had moved back to France with his husband and would always give Mr. Dickens a call to check upon him.

Everyone wore their matching outfits, leather jackets, and bizarre shirts of green and blue.

Oliver stared at the picture, scanning the young faces before looking back at his boss.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because, young chap, I want you to know how me and my lads built Socks" Mr. Dickens explained. 

"I was a mere guitarist living with my friend Adam in his parent's garage, we were both dropouts and tried to make a living with our own hobbies. We obviously made it through bars and performed on stage but we didn't get much recognition as we were a tad sloppy in our work, but then, Gilez came by and offered to help as he was searching for purpose. We performed together, wrote songs together, managed to make our way from late-night performances to train stations, and then finally; the public!"

Oliver listened closely to those words before staring back at the old photo.

"So… what are you trying to imply, sir?"

"What I'm trying to say is; go find yourself a good bassist and drummer. Build your own band and make it to the public! It's a small world, after all"

The flannel wearing man blinked and took a minute to think about it.

He was a talented guitarist, vocalist, and writer. A bassist and a drummer would totally boost the chances of bringing back Punk Rock!

A power trio like Socks.

"That's one rad idea! But…" he sheepishly grinned "where could I find a bassist and drummer?"

The English man furrowed his brows for a bit before snapping his fingers, he led Oliver to the corner of the backroom and asked him to help him move a few boxes.

Some dust and cobwebs were revealed but behind the boxes was a printer, it seemed like it wasn't used for a few months. 

"Seems like the ink needs a bit of work, luckily, I have a few spares around here"

Mr. Dickens lifted it and placed it onto a heavy box as proper support.

Oliver eyed the thing with a spark in his eyes, blowing the dust off of the thing before checking if it was still in good shape.

"Here-" Mr. Dickens handed Oliver a piece of paper and a marker "-write an ad! It'll surely lure interest in no time! I'll go find some ink for the printer"

As he wandered off, Oliver was already brainstorming an ad design.

He didn't want to go overboard so he writes a simple "Drummer and Bassist needed", ad with a few illustrations here and there to add some snazzy look.

Oliver Swift was going to build a band and bring back Punk Rock.


	3. Bassist

It was already a week after the ad came out, there weren't many participants besides curious people staring at the papers before leaving.

Oliver decided to expand a bit and go out of the Music Store to hand them out publicly. 

"Hey, Nico!" He called, having stacks of paper in his arms.

His coworker was busy balancing a pen on their nose, not really looking at Oliver at all.

"What's up, flannel man?"

"I'm gonna go out and hand some ads out to strangers, mind covering my shift?"

Nico's expression fell and they held the pen in their hand, "what do I get in return?"

"Uhm, my groovy nonstop support?"

His coworker didn't seem interested in mutualism but they just sighed in defeat, knowing that Oliver would just go out anyways.

"Alright alright, go have fun with origami or whatever"

"Stellar! Thanks a lots, Perez!" Oliver gave a few finger guns before rushing out of the store.

"Sheesh, that guy is obsessed … hey, where'd my pen go?"

___

The cold breeze brushed itself against Oliver's skin, he took a deep breath of the fresh air and exhaled through his mouth.

His main goal was to find a bassist and a drummer.

The idea of going to the park came up first and his legs immediately started walking, he passed by a few recognizable stores and crossed the street to be met with the park.

A lot of people would pass by the park to get to the subway or go to one of the stores around here, he was sure that he'll get a few interested participants.

As he finally crossed the crosswalk, he sped up towards the park to be met with tall trees, a stone road, and freshly cut grass.

Usually, there would be various sharp things but after new orders from the new mayor, a weekly cleanup.

It relieved Oliver that people won't end up having needles punctured into their skin when they're trying to be nostalgic.

He passed the open fence and checked to see if the papers he had were complete-

"Yeeow!"

He felt a sharp pain in his ankle as if something had hit him there which led him to drop everything in his hands and hold his foot up. 

Due to the sudden reaction, he stumbled and fell on his back.

"Fuck man-!" He hissed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Jeez, watch where you're going, bozo"

"How about _you_ watch where you're goi- _oh_ "

He sat up to see a rascal.

"Billy…"

"Sup, bozo"

The kid had _purposely_ hit the edge of his skateboard against Oliver's ankle. His purple beanie pushing his messy black hair down to hide his eyes and a dark blue hoodie that seemed a tad too big for him.

"Do you ever get tired of ruining people's lives?" Oliver groaned, still feeling pain in his ankle. 

"Not really, it's kinda like my specialty at this point" the kid shrugged.

The flannel-wearing man looked around to see all of the papers scattered around, he quickly shuffled onto his knees to pick them up.

As he did, Billy managed to get his hands on one and scoffed.

"You're actually going to make a band? I thought Nico was kidding but wow, this is just sad"

"It's not sad, you-"Oliver stopped himself because he didn't want to curse at a child who just happens to be the physical embodiment of **evil**.

"Yeah yeah, _passion_ and whatever" 

The kid crumpled up the paper and threw it at Oliver, in which he got an annoyed grunt as a response.

"Where are your parents?" Oliver asked after finally standing up with all of the papers in hand.

"Busy as usual and even if you did tell them, they won't do anything about it so you're lost"

"Why you little-"

"I'll bite if you lay a finger on me"

Oliver just frowned in defeat before sighing, "just get out of my sight, you demon"

"Can do, bozo!"

With that, the rascal hopped onto his skateboard and left.

Oliver sighed and walked towards a bench, sitting down to check if the papers were all alright. A few had dirt on them, one was crumpled into a ball and the rest was fine.

He stuffed the crumpled up ad into his pocket since it had no use.

Now, he just had to wait for a few minutes and the park will be packed with future participants!

…or not.

Throughout Oliver's thirty minutes of trying to grab other people's attention and almost tripping on his own shoes, he barely got anyone's eyes on his offer.

The only time someone had their hands on an ad was to examine it and throw it away when they're out of sight.

What made it worse was that kids were coming into the park to play water games.

You can already tell how it went with Oliver since he became an exact target to those _rascals._

He spent almost three hours in the park and thus, he was left sitting on a bench.

He was drenched with water, a piece of rubber stuck on his hair and the papers he had were all ruined.

Maybe he should've just glued the papers across town instead of handing them face to face to strangers.

Mentally facepalming himself, he let out an audible groan.

"Gosh, today fucking sucks" he palmed his chin.

"Y-yeah, you could say that again…"

He quirked a brow, quite positive that the voice came from behind him but before he could ask- the voice continued.

"I mean-? Waking up late and not being able to finish breakfast, having to struggle daily to get daily bread- it's an endless cycle of misery- not only that, this park is infested with little _heck_ demons!"

"I can agree on that last part, man" Oliver clicked his tongue "little shits wander around to ruin people's lives"

"I-I know! They're terrible! It's awful having to deal with them all day-! They bite, kick, scream, it's- it's a living nightmare!"

"They just want to cause chaos on anything on sight, like? They get to walk all Scott free while we end up victims of their charades"

"Y-yeah! Screw those rascals! I'm tired of seeing them every time I go to work!"

"Fuck them! They suck!"

"Yeah-! Darn- D-Darn-"

"Little shit kids!"

"-swans-! What?"

"What?"

Oliver sat in silence, unsure how the description ended up being similar to kids and swans. Kind of terrifying.

The flannel-wearing man just chuckled, "wow, we were way off topic"

"Kind of… Uhm… yeah"

Oliver hummed before eyeing the poorly drenched papers.

"Well," Oliver chuckled "that was one weird conversation. Nice to meet you, though!"

"Yeah, good talk. Never expected to vent things out to a stranger but- here I am"

"Pft, same. I mean, I was about to head back to work but since I'm drenched with water from little bastards throwing water balloons; I'm kinda stuck here until I'm dry"

"Oh, you were the one cursing your heart out throughout the park?"

"Yeah, that was me- where were you?"

"Wrangling swans… by that, I mean getting castrated by swans"

" _Yikes_ "

Oliver knew that swans were violent pricks but hearing that just sent chills in his spines.

"I guess I was too busy handing out papers to notice someone getting mauled in the background-"

"Mhm"

There was silence before the voice behind Oliver asked something.

"Out of curiosity, what were you handing out?"

"Huh? Oh! It's an ad. I'm kinda like- making a band and I need a bassist and a drummer"

The voice let out a small laugh, "funny, I used to play the bass-"

Oliver immediately stood up and hopped over the bench to be met with a startled guy with " _fuckface_ " written over his bandage.

"Gosh-! what-?"

The guy had black and messy hair, he was tall and lanky yet had slightly baggy clothes. He wore a jean jacket with a grey button-up underneath it, not only that, he had bandages wrapped around his hands.

"You play the bass!?" Oliver asked with a spark in his eyes, not realizing that he was scaring the guy.

"I mean-" the guy started to stutter "-I can but-"

"That's great! You have to come to DMS and show me your skills, I mean if you want to of course but I'd be very happy if you took the chance to participate because I am _dying_ for a band member!"

"I'm-" the bandaged man gulped "-I mean, I'm not busy afterward but-"

"So it's a yes?"

"I- ...yeah, sure"

Oliver couldn't contain his excitement and immediately shook his hand while saying "thank you" in a mantra.

"-dude! My man! You just did us a big favor!"

"'Us'?"

"Well, mostly me but that's not the point-! Now follow me! The Music Store isn't too far and the earlier we test things out; the faster the process!"

"I-"

Before the guy could ask, he was immediately dragged away.

____

It was a great deal that Mr. Dickens had Socks old equipment in the backroom, Oliver was quick to grab the bass.

The backroom was soundproof so they wouldn't get in trouble.

Oliver noticed that the guy was nervous so after minutes of reassurance, he managed to get him to hold the bass and play a tune.

He was rusty but soon managed to catch his flow on things.

Oliver couldn't stop smiling as he found a bassist for the band.

When the guy finished with a breeze, Oliver immediately applauded him.

"Bravo! That was amazing!"

"Really?" The guy seemed to blush "thanks…"

"With enough practice, I'm sure we could collaborate well! I already have some songs in mind and we can start on a few- Uhm, you're not too busy, right?"

"I mean- my schedule is a bit messy but I have enough free time"

"Great! Oh, by the way! We didn't introduce ourselves well; the name's Oliver Swift! What about you, pal?"

"Ah- it's Randy. Randy Jade"

"Well ain't that a groovy name for a groovy bassist" Oliver playfully nudged Randy with his elbow.

Randy shyly smiled at him, he wasn't sure about this new music route he's taking but it might be his chance to get away from his wretched jobs.

All they need now is a drummer.


	4. Manager

Nico placed two albums into a small bag and handed it over to the customer. 

"Thanks for buying in Dialtown's Music Store, have a nice day," they said with a lopsided smile.

"You too! Also," the customer fished out some cash and slapped it onto the counter "here's a tip!"

Nico blinked in disbelief, unable to say thank you as the customer had rushed off with a shaky smile.

They eyed the cash and realized that there was a note that had some sort of phone number on it.

They smiled widely with pride.

"Jeez, am I smoking hot or what? This is the third time this month!" They chuckled to themselves and shoved the cash into their pocket.

Nico glanced at the clock to see that their shift was over and that it was Oliver's turn for the counter. They assumed that he was in the back room so they went there-

-to be met with loud ringing.

They covered their ears in pain. 

"What the fuck!?"

"Sorry!"

Oliver was trying to fix the speakers but it started to ring in a painful volume that everyone in the back room had to cover their ears. 

Randy slowly removed his hands off of his ears and looked at Oliver, his bass hanging from the straps around his shoulder.

"I think it's all-" Oliver pulled the plug from the outlet, "-okay! There!"

The ringing had stopped and Nico removed their hands off of their ears.

"Sheesh, what is wrong with you?" They scolded.

"Give me a break, man. Just practicing with Randy here"

Randy waved at Nico.

"Yeah," Nico gave Randy a wave as a response "but you're gonna have to practice later, you're shift's up"

"Oh?" Oliver checked his watch, "already?"

"Yep, time doesn't lie"

The flannel-wearing man frowned but placed his guitar down before turning his head towards Randy.

"Sorry man, maybe after work?"

"It's- it's fine! I have to head out anyways for work… swans aren't going to wrangle themselves, ya know?"

Randy placed the bass down and grabbed his jacket that was lying on one of the tall boxes, he shook the dust off and wore it casually before heading off.

"So…" Nico clicked their tongue "how's the band thing going?"

Their coworker was busy pushing the speaker back to its rightful place.

"Well, me and Randy have killed it in collaboration! He just needs more practice since he told me that it's been a while since he played the bass. The only problem now is finding a drummer. I already finished plastering posters across town but lately… no one came by"

"Finding a drummer seems hard"

"Oh, it is"

Oliver fixed the collar of his shirt and dusted the dust off of his pants.

"Well," he walked over to Nico to pat them on the shoulder "I'm gonna work now, have fun on your break"

His coworker just gave a quick thumbs-up before wandering towards the stairs.

___

"Thanks for buying in DMS! Have a groove-tastic day, ma'am!" Oliver chimed.

After the last customer left, he sighed tiredly and palmed his chin. 

It was finally closing time and he needed to do a bit of work, his coworker was already out so it was up to Oliver to clean the store.

He reminded himself that if he finishes quickly, he could pick up Randy from the park and continue practicing.

With newfound motivation; he quickly got the cleaning equipment and got to work. It was easy to clean the stands that had all kinds of albums, he just had to swipe a wet towel from left to right.

For the albums, all he did was get the glass cover and plop it over the items. It was to avoid theft if someone ever thought of breaking into the store at midnight.

He swiftly locked the now closed stands and stuffed the key into his pocket.

Next was mopping the floor, to be Frank, he enjoyed just running from side to side while pressing the wet mop against the floor.

It might look silly but it was faster than just _painting_ the floor.

With childish techniques, he finished cleaning in a snap! 

As Oliver was ready to place the cleaning equipment back in its original place, his boss walked in.

"Young chap, have you finished-" Mr. Dickens stopped to see that the albums were secured and the floor recently mopped.

"Oh my, it hasn't even been thirty minutes and you managed to make this room reflect my looks!"

"Thanks, sir!"

Oliver placed the equipment in the small closet that was only accessible to employees and he threw the keys at Mr. Dickens; who caught them with ease.

"I'm gonna go get my buddy for practice! Catch ya later, boss!"

"Ah, safe travels, Oliver!"

The flannel-wearing man rushed out of the store- flipping the sign to say " **closed** " throughout the run. Mr. Dickens merely chuckled as he placed the keys in his pocket.

"What an energetic lad"

Meanwhile, Oliver was making his way to the park. The sky was turning to a hint of orange as the clouds looked more yellow than milky white, he also noticed the lack of people passing by at this time- which means fewer kids to run into him! A win!

Though, his luck ran out when he heard screams of murder and chilling honking. He turned his head to see Randy swinging a leash to prevent the swans from getting close to him.

The poor guy looked like a wreck, feathers, and grass stuck in his hair and he was missing a shoe.

"Stay back you long-necked demons! Shoo!" He swung the leash once more but was yanked away from his grasp.

The swans were violent than before, ready to commit a felony against Randy like it's a hobby. However, their blood-lusting honking turned into confused ones when Oliver suddenly jumped in.

"Hey! Scram you little bastards! shoo!" He yelled before pulling something out of his pocket;

A piece of bread wrapped in tissue.

He chucked it far and the swans chased the piece.

"Ha! The old _throwing-bread-as-a-distraction_ trick! Works like a charm" Oliver then turned to Randy, who was shaking like a leaf in autumn. 

"you good?"

"Besides head trauma and losing a shoe, I'm actually decent"

"No offense, man, but you look like a wreck"

Oliver flicked a small wooden stick off of Randy's hair.

"Eh, it's not the first that I heard that… ouch-" 

"Sorry! you have a splinter near your cheek"

Randy just rubbed his cheek, feeling like he could just drop onto the ground and sleep at this point but he kept his eyes open.

"Hey, Oliver?"

"Hm?"

"Do you still got bread on you?"

"Not really, that was my last one. Why? You hungry?"

Randy audibly gulped and pointed behind Oliver.

"Wh-?" Oliver froze to see the same flock of swans surrounding them- one having tissue hanging from its bill.

The two men were surrounded by blood-seeking dinosaur descendants and Oliver coughed into a fist.

"You… you got a plan, Mister swan wrangler?"

"Does _embrace for impact_ counts?"

And so the two proceeded to suffer physically from the swan massacre.

It took a solid fifteen minutes for the swans to get bored with torturing the two and they all waddled off.

"I-" Oliver coughed a feather out of his mouth "-I have never felt _so_ much pain in my life"

"Welcome to the club" Randy wheezed out.

They were sprawled over the concrete path with messy hair and feathers all over- a few bruises here and there.

"I think-" Oliver ran his hand over his chest for a bit "-I think they ate my badge"

Randy groaned and sat himself up for a bit, tightening the bandages over his hands before facing towards Oliver.

"Sorry you had to get involved with this swan mess"

"Hey hey-" Oliver sat up with a pained grunt "-it's fine! I basically threw myself in to try to help but… whoops, I underestimated swans"

"Never underestimate those rascals"

"Lesson? learned"

As the two managed to shift themselves onto a bench for better support, they realized they've wasted too much time and that they can't practice today.

While staring off into the abyss; Randy glanced to his left to see someone approaching them.

A woman with brown hair, baby blue eyes, and a visible golden earring. She had a light brown sweater with a fur collar jacket over it, her nails were painted black as she had killer red lipstick.

Her left hand was occupied withholding a piece of paper- a poster, to be exact.

She stopped right beside the bench and cleared her throat, looking down at the men who looked like they ran through twelve different pillow stores.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but-" she held up the poster that had the word ' **Drummer needed in DMS'** "-are you the one who works in Dialtown's Music Store?"

Oliver worked a brow before noticing what she was holding.

"Yeah… yeah!" He chimed excitedly, "are you-"

"No, I'm not a drummer"

"Oh…"

"But," she handed the poster to him "I can help you find one"

"Really?!"

"Yes, I've seen a few people in Dialtown play drums before and I know a way to get their attention"

"That's great!"

However, Randy was just listening in to this conversation with a question in his head.

"I'm sorry but can I ask something?" He interrupted, catching their attention afterward.

"What's up, Randy?" Oliver asked.

"First, why all of a sudden? It's a- it's a generous offer but is there a reason for it?"

The woman just pursed her lips for a bit.

"I'll give a summary; I felt like it would be best if I lend a hand to a progressing band that currently has two members who just got mauled by seven swans. That and I don't really have much to do so this might be interesting"

"So, what you're trying to say is-" Oliver stood up and stretched his arms a bit "you're bored and you pity us enough to help us?"

"...I guess you can say that"

"Stellar!"

Randy, despite being silent, still felt a tad suspicious of this sudden encounter. Yet, those words were still jumbled so he just played along with it.

"Oh," Oliver snapped his fingers "don't mind me asking- what's your name?"

"It's Karen Dunn"

"Groovy name, Karen! The name's Oliver Swift and this is my buddy; Randy!"

Randy waved at her.

As time went on, they all- mostly Oliver and Karen- agreed to discuss further detail tomorrow in the Music Store. Karen will be doing most of the work since she already outlined a plan on how to get a drummer.

She was a smart lady and was really good with words, though, there were times that she was caught off guard by Oliver's slangs.

They all parted ways eventually.

  
  


____

Karen was always on time since she knew how to manage her schedule and all those past experiences with business.

With a bag over her shoulders, she entered the Music Store just as it opened.

The worker who had pink dyed hair looked a bit shocked to see someone enter just as they turned the sign.

"Woah, hey-" they greeted.

"Is Oliver here?" She asked.

The coworker, who had their name on their badge, just blinked before pointing towards the door that led to the backroom.

She thanked them and walked over to the door, opening it to be met with a loud bang.

"My foot-!"

"Sorry, Randy!"

The two men had accidentally tripped over a box and it fell on Randy's foot.

Karen quietly entered and placed her bag onto a heavy box that acted as a table, she managed to get their attention by clearing her throat.

"Oh! Karen!" Oliver seemed to brighten up as Randy was still hissing in pain.

"Good morning," she simply greeted before unzipping her bag "should we get started or-?"

"Yeah! We'd get a better chance of finding a drummer if we start early!"

Oliver's spirit seemed to surprise Karen but she calmed down afterward, surely, she'll get used to that kind of attitude. 

Her bag was filled with items but she mainly got her laptop, a grey and old one.

"Yesterday, I managed to make a more interesting ad poster for us to plaster around Dialtown"

The said-poster was more colorful and detailed than what Oliver had, instead of just saying " **drummer needed in DMS** " it had a proper opening and ending.

The font use was great and the color choice really stood out.

Oliver's eyes seemed to sparkle at the new look.

"Karen- that's-! It's amazing! Thank you!"

Karen gave him a small smile and snaked her hand into her bag to show stacks of posters.

"I've already printed these out and we'll all go our separate ways to post them in really popular places. Examples are near schools, cafes, and Dialtown's subways. If we manage to tackle the most populated places then we'll be able to get a few people to take part in it"

"Oh, that's smart"

Randy, however, was busy eyeing the posters and then back to the two who were having their own conversation. 

He was suspicious but maybe he could ask later after they finished plastering these stacks of paper in certain places.

"Alright! Let's go and post these bad boys up!" Oliver chimed, already having a stack of paper in hand.

They all got out and separated their ways to find common areas.

Oliver went to the subway and got a few posters hung up messily on walls and boards, Karen went to cafes and post them on the side which would be easily noticeable to those who are entering, Randy just hung the posters up near schools and playgrounds.

When they were done; they all head back to the Music Store.

Nico was there doing their shift and greeted them lazily. 

"Finished selling cookies to nice neighborhoods?" They joked. Oliver just flicked their forehead.

Karen suggested that they set up the drums and they obviously went to work with it, it was slightly difficult since both Randy and Karen didn't have much experience in setting up a whole drum set. 

Oliver did all the work and they managed to set it up.

"I'm gonna go find the drum sticks, I know that Mr. Dickens has them in his office so I'm gonna go find him!"

Thus, the flannel-wearing man left.

Karen and Randy merely sat on a heavy box that supports both of their weight.

Nico recently came into the backroom to give out refreshments; which were juice boxes.

So it was just Karen and Randy in the back room.

"Hey, Karen…?" Randy started, merely fumbling the plastic straw between his fingers.

Karen let out a hum as she was busy drinking her juice.

"I know this- this is sudden and all but I was kinda wondering why you just… jumped into this. I mean, it's nice of you but it's also kinda suspicious- not like I don't- I don't trust you but I'm just curious!"

It took a moment for the woman beside him to form response as the straw left her lips.

"Well, it is a complicated one but I'll try to give a short and simple one-" she placed her empty juice box aside "-you know about music industries?"

"A bit...?"

"Well, they're kind of like a circus. Exploiting their resources until they manage to snag a new one for new tricks, they do that to the people who've signed their lives off in a contract-"

Randy continued to listen in to her explanation.

"-I've seen how they pull new members into the industry up close, always sugar-coating their words and etcetera. They just want to double the money they have by using people"

"Ah, that makes sense"

"Yeah; After seeing the posters, I immediately went to the Music Store but saw that it was already closed. Then, I found you both in the park… getting mauled by disturbing swans"

"A painful memory"

"Either way, I placed myself into this whole situation out of impulse since I've had past experiences with music industries"

"So wait-" Randy finished taking a sip of his juice "-you used to work in the industry?"

"Not really, it was more like watching it from a bush or stumbling into an alleyway deal"

"Jeez, people are really going far in business"

"Well, if you've studied economics and business examples then it's mostly the tip of the iceberg"

Randy visibly shivered.

The two turned their heads when they heard Oliver return with drumsticks in his hand.

"Found them-! Oh hey, you're drinking juice boxes without me?"

Karen and Randy just shrugged.


	5. Drummer

A week has passed and they've received a good amount of participants.

Though, that doesn't mean they officially found a drummer for the band.

Oliver was sugar-coating things when they got their first participant but his enthusiasm seemed to melt when the participant had different tastes.

Everyone was either sloppy, not so Punk-Rock, a bit over the top, and so on.

They were talented yet it didn't fit the theme of the band- not only that, a majority of them expected a cash reward but Karen shot down the idea afterward.

It was disappointing that when you've been served with hot food on a silver platter; you find out that it's still raw on the inside.

There was a time that a participant went off on how Punk Rock was too bland and it took three people- specifically Nico, Randy, and Karen to hold back an infuriated Oliver. 

" **_Punk Rock isn't bland! it's ahead of its time!_ **"

" _Oliver no-!_ "

Luckily, no one got hurt.

Since participants have been slow; they used their time to practice.

Karen would visit the Music Store from time to time to watch Oliver and Randy practice, she always brings refreshments and even new plans to boost their chances to find a drummer.

Meanwhile, Randy and Oliver were practicing on a short song. It was less punk and more soft due to the lack of drums, though, it was best to start early to catch their rhythm. 

The flannel-wearing man was having a blast whilst Randy was trying his darndest to keep up with the rhythm, though, there were times where he missed a beat and tried to improve.

"Wait- no- I got it-!"

"Really? I mean, we can play it again since it's a short song-"

"No no no, Oliver, I got this in the- bag-?"

"You're… butchering it at this point"

"The only thing I-I'm butchering is- skill!"

Karen sighed and placed her juice box aside, "just stop, Randy"

"Okay…"

He'll get it right eventually. 

____

Oliver was in the back room with a book in hand, reading it whilst leaning against a heavy box. 

Karen stood near the door with her hands crossed and her foot tapping lightly against the floor as if she was waiting for someone.

"Hey, Oliver? What time is it?"

"It's uh-" he checked his watch "-four and a half?"

"Huh. Usually Randy would be here by-"

The door suddenly opened.

"-oh"

The swing wrangler looked less of a mess and more… clean. He had this spark in his eyes and his entire attire looked tidy than before, the buttons were buttoned up properly and his messy hair was combed.

"Randy!" Oliver shut the book and threw it aside without care "my man, glad you could make it! Ready for practice-?"

"Actually, Oliver-" Randy suddenly spoke up "-I came here because I wanted to tell you that I won't be able to practice today"

This surprised Oliver.

"What? did something happen?"

"Well, from the way you implied 'happened'; I assume you're referring to a tragedy in which, it's not! ...for once"

"Oh, if that's the case then what's the big gig?"

"The big gig is that I-" Randy cleared his throat "-have a hot smoking date!"

Silence filled the room besides processing blinks.

"Could you repeat that?" Karen scratched the back of her ears.

"I'm going on a date! which is a miracle for a guy like me since I've had daily experiences with swan massacre and possum caring-"

"-a possum?"

"Yeah, it's a complicated story but either way! I'm gonna meet my destiny at that convention nearby"

Oliver hummed a bit, "you mean that apple-themed convention that looks like a massive rip off to Dialtown's original funfair?"

"It's advertised so it's much more valued than the funfair! That and there's less security… as my date says"

Karen then butted into the conversation.

"Who are you going out anyway?"

"Oh- hm, I'm not too sure but-"

"You're going out with someone you barely know?"

"Well, they kinda called me during work"

"you said today was swan-free…" Oliver quirked a brow.

Randy's face seemed to turn red and his slight confidence shifted into first-hand embarrassment. 

"Oh right… you don't know about my second job"

He fiddled with his bandages for a bit.

"I… kinda work in a- please don't judge me- _Phone-sex hotline_ "

Randy looked around to see surprised looks.

"I-" Oliver cleared his throat "-wow, okay, I never thought of it that way"

Karen, however, just averted her eyes towards the ground as if it was more interesting than realizing your acquaintance works at a phone-sex hotline.

"So, to clarify-" she spoke up "-you're going on a date with someone you just met through a phone-sex hotline and you just agreed on going to the convention with them? as a date?"

"When you put it that way; yes!"

There was silence before Randy audibly sighed.

"Look, beggars can't be choosers and this might be a chance for me to turn my life around. I know that it's stupid-"

"It definitely is"

"-Yeah, but if I keep hiding in my shell then I'll be stuck with swans and horny thirty-year-old clients who are on their thirty-minute lunch break forever"

He received some pitiful looks until Oliver just shrugged.

"Well, if you wanna take the risk then go for it! I mean, who knows? maybe destiny is waiting for a Randy Jade himself"

"Really…?"

"of course, homeslice! you go show your future spouse what a macho man you are"

"You really- you really think I can be macho?"

"You can be anything, sweetie. Now go get em' tiger!"

"I-" Randy looked at his bandaged palms and clenched them "-yes, sir!"

With a determined look, he marched his way out of the room to go on his loving date.

As he had finally left the scene, Karen just crossed her arms at Oliver.

"Were you being serious or sarcastic?"

"Come on, Karen gotta give your pal some support"

"Well… you are a bubbly type after all but," she glanced at the door "do you think he'll come back in one piece?"

"I… don't know but maybe if we just.." Oliver blinked "hope hard enough then he'll come back with pants on?"

"...really?"

"It's better than skin so just roll with it, Karen!"

____

"Okay, Randy, you can do this. Be kind and look tough" he reassured himself.

The convention wasn't too far anyways so he had enough time to prep himself for this date, even if it meant talking to himself like a weirdo having an existential crisis.

It still surprised him that he got asked out. Usually, he was the kind of guy to beg at people for their time whilst dodging coffee mugs and recently heated pastries.

It was to the point that he managed to build some dodging reflexes through pitiful experience. 

Anyways, as he strolled through the streets of Dialtown; he saw the convention right across the street. He questions why it's called a convention when it looked more like an apple theme fair for people with dust in their pockets, but then again, rip-offs stay as rip-offs.

He was instructed to wait at the front so he did, standing beside cardboard cut out of a poorly drawn apple mascot that just looked as miserable as him.

He waited with his hands clasped neatly behind his back, checking himself if he still looked as neat as he saw on a puddle.

Perhaps he should lose the face bandage? Having the word "fuck face" on it seemed less approachable. 

His train of thought came to a crash when he suddenly felt goosebumps behind his neck, he turned around to be met with nothing.

Suddenly feeling uneasy, he kept darting his eyes at his own surroundings as he felt like he was being watched-

A twig snapped and his herbivorous-prey instincts kicked in.

Before his legs could run when he turned his heels, his eyes- mostly one since his right one was covered with his face bandage- were met with animal-like eyes.

A hint of yellow in those eyes with different colored pupils. The right being a dark red and the left being a grey-ish green, he could also see that their skin seemed… separated? He recognized leather, skin, and stitches.

"Uhm…?" Was all that came out of his mouth.

The owner of such distinct features backed away slightly.

Randy managed to get a good look and was staring in awe and probably horror.

Abnormal anatomy was the first thing that came to mind before he took in with the sight; patched up skin, leather, and scales with stitches that kept them all together. Dark green hair that could be easily mistaken as black if it weren't for the lighting, a white oversized sleeveless shirt that looked like it was pulled out of a thorny bush, and barely noticeable black shorts. They wore pink bowling alley shoes and a black bracelet that hung around their left wrist.

"Who. You?" They asked suddenly.

"I-? Me? Uhm, the- the name's Randy!"

The expression on… that non-human being shifted along with their pupils.

"Randal!"

"Actually, it's Randy-"

"You!" They held his face "I summoned you from the booth of phones!"

"What?"

At this point, he wasn't sure if they were speaking English at this point.

They frowned at the question.

"I was the humble client who called you," they noticed that Randy was still clueless and they groaned "ya know? Sex hotline shmazz, swan suffering, excreta-excreta"

"I- wait," Randy thought about it before hearing his own brain actually functioning again "you're the one who asked me out"

"I'm glad it got through your hue-man-bean of a brain, dear Ran-dough"

"That's… not my name but thank you for the effort"

Randy wasn't too sure if having a literal cryptid who probably crawled out of a gutter as a date was a good idea but they seemed less of a threat. If he had to be honest, they were kind of cute when their pupils expanded into orbs and not into thin scars of blood-lust.

"So," he adjusted the collar of his button-up "hon! It's nice to meet you on this lovely day"

"You too, handsome" they winked.

Oh, that was kinda- Randy couldn't help but feel a bit hot in his cheeks as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Anyhoo, wanna go in and do some loving activities together? Like a couple of old love birds?"

"We shall!" They held out a hand "if you hold my hand"

He blinked, eyeing the hand and sharp claws they had. He bit the inside of his tongue and gently held their hand, realizing now that his bandages were doing most of the work besides his sweaty palms.

Their hands seemed slightly smaller and a tad skinnier in the fingers, which matches their abnormal anatomy.

The two went towards the front booth to get their bracelets that indicate that they're just visiting and not thieves who want to steal apple cider from a sleeping grandpa.

"Hey there, welcome to Ap- hold on a second-" the guard at front eyed the cryptid beside Randy.

"Aren't you the same lizard person who tried to bite your way through a metal fence?"

"Oh, Nah. You're probably thinking of another lizard that's roaming around Dialtown with its stunning looks"

"Alright then?"

"Anyways," they cleared their throat "you shall hand over the wristbands of accessibility immediately!"

"Jeez, fine, no need to get all mythical on my case"

The guard clipped the paper bracelets on the couple's wrist.

"Have fun, buckaroos" the guard said.

The two entered and were met with a scent of apples all around, which made sense since it was an apple-themed convention. 

Randy still had his hand on his date's hand, not sensing any danger from doing so.

"So hon," he started "I didn't get a chance to ask but I was wondering on what your name is? Sure- surely someone like you would have a pretty dandy name-"

"Gingi"

"Huh?"

"Gingi is my name"

"Gingi? That's a- that's a beautiful name!"

They purred audibly, "I know, Randy"

"Oh hey! You actually said my name r-" he was then pulled away by Gingi towards the multiple rows of games that involved apple's "-ight!"

As the two spent their time there, Gingi was practically a ball of energy and possibly fictional horror that Randy hoped to never see.

He will admit that they were attractive and he was kinda enjoying his time with them but there were times where his theory of them being a literal wild animal ended up true.

From grabbing things with their mouth to hissing at owners, they reminded him of a really angry house cat who loves scratching couches.

Though, Randy felt like this date was special.

Not emotionally but in a way where you feel like you managed to get a coupon that expires in a week.

He was busy getting a hotdog for him and his date, they were cheap and cold but better than nothing.

As he was about to hand the second one to his date; he realized that his date wasn't there.

"Gingi? Hon?" He looked around.

With a concerned look, he walked around the area to find them. He didn't have the guts to ask strangers so he wandered around until he stumbled near a stage.

The stage was meant for performers but the performers couldn't make it due to technical difficulty.

He didn't spare a glance at the stage, assuming it was empty and continued to look around.

He spent a good five minutes on walking aimlessly around to find his cryptid date, it was almost late as well.

"Did they really ditch me like that?" he asked himself, a bit sad.

With a sad face, he walked on his own with a hotdog in hand. He already ate his and he was having one for Gingi but seems like he was- once again- dipped like a chip.

But his head perked up when he heard something intense in the distance; drumming?

Suddenly, he felt like his legs were walking towards the source. It was the complete opposite of what his Herbivorous-prey instincts would usually do but he was pulled into the scene, and…

He saw them!

On the stage were mostly ignored instruments meant to help the planned performance but one was entirely occupied by none other than Gingi themselves.

They were going ham with the drums that their movements were all blurred, it pulled in a crowd that cheered for their punk rock drums.

Randy just stared in complete awe, dropping the hotdog in hand during the process.

His date was a drummer. The perfect drummer!

_____

Gingi crashed the cymbals with a prideful grin.

Oliver and Karen stared with their jaws dropped on the floor, not really but their mouths gaped.

"Ta-da!" Randy chimed with jazz hands.

"Oh my god- a monster drummer!" Oliver squealed "where did you find them? What species are they? Are they a warlord? Do they lay eggs? You gotta give me details man!"

"Calm down! I met them yesterday, you know, when I was on a date"

Oliver gasped.

"You went on a date with a cryptid?! Dude, you're living the dream!"

"Why are they green?" Karen winced.

"Like? I've watched enough fictional movies when I was young but seeing an actual being with stitched up skin, carnivorous teeth, eyes that dilate, and a tail!? My life is complete! Somebody pinch me"

Gingi just laughed and placed the drumsticks aside.

"Well, I'm flattered but I'm just a widdle ol' cryptid in Dialtown. Nothing big-"

They were stopped by Oliver holding their face.

"Nothing big? Nothing big!? Well, let me prove you wrong-" he let go of their face when they hissed "-not only are you the most punk rock drummer I've ever met, you're another species! This just gives us brownie points for being totally radical! A band with a literal cryptid? Totally groovy!"

Gingi leaned towards Randy to whisper; "he is a strange goblin…"

"You'll get used to it, hon. you'll get used to it"


End file.
